The coffee maker isn’t in the kitchen. It stays in a laundry/mudroom space and sits on a bright yellow counter top next to a deep laundry sink. I have a little sign above it that says, “Bloom Where You Are Planted.”
The small ritual of emptying coffee grounds from the day before, washing the pot, grinding fresh beans and pushing the “on” button sets my small boat aright every morning. The machine grinds, clicks, and hisses. The room fills with that friendly coffee smell. I take three steps to the back door to see if the usual bunny rabbit is nibbling around my weed herb patch.
No. The bunny isn’t here. But another resident was nibbling at the edge of the wood on this misty morning, a sweet bit of visual lagniappe.
Noon update: Buck and I were working at our desks when we saw a doe with twin newborn spotted fawns come into the clearing. The fawns moved in the rollicking stutter-step way of babies that looks so joyful. I raced for my camera, but Mama was careful, and tucked the fawns back into woodland cover too fast for me to take their picture.